


a little something from the good ol' days

by cassi0pei4



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: (Blackwood doesn't really consent to Lilith's behavior), Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Threesome - F/F/M, Verbal Humiliation, Witch Orgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-07 18:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassi0pei4/pseuds/cassi0pei4
Summary: Once upon a time, Zelda attended one of the coven's orgies.Set somewhere in Part One - after Mary becomes Lilith, but before Zelda knows who she is.





	a little something from the good ol' days

**Author's Note:**

> This was started many months ago because someone prompted this threesome. It was completed and posted only because skatingsplits and hacklesacademy are inspirational. 
> 
> Title from Our Lady of the Underground by Anais Mitchell (Hadestown)

The room was hazy with smoke: incense burning in ancient holders, fires crackling in open torches, cigarettes smoldering between outstretched fingers. Zelda hadn't attended one of these in decades, since before Sabrina, since before Edward's ascension. She had forgotten how it felt, the room swirling around her like a slow turn table, the soft warmth of her own lax muscles beneath her fingers.

She had forgotten too, that someone always spiked the wine that flowed here more freely than ambrosia in Valhalla. She could feel the enchantment of it taking hold of her every nerve. Why else would even the merest brush of her silk chemise against her skin feel so unbearably teasing?

She caught sight of herself in a hazy mirror, a swirl of pink and red: gold-tinged curls wild, cheeks flushed, lips smudged dark with rouge and wine. She wanted to touch those lips, to feel skin against skin.

_Do what thou wilt._

She tilted her head to the side, letting the tips of her curls drag deliciously across her bare shoulders, stroking up her neck with one hand until her fingers ghosted over her lips and up to the smooth skin of her cheek. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure of it wash over her as she stroked the same path back in reverse.

To more pedestrian tastes, perhaps such a fascination with oneself was unseemly. Even for Zelda, somewhere deep within her she could hear a stern voice chastise her vanity. She drowned it in another mouthful of wine and never had the sharp taste of tannins proved more successful in silencing the ghosts tormenting her.

Her eyes opened lazily at the sound of nearby cry echoing louder over the constant hum of low moans and sighs.

On a wide chaise in front of her, four bodies twisted together, hanging on and sliding off, pressed close and teasing. She could make out Prudence's dark skin, her back flat against the cushions and her head tossed back in pleasure. One of her sisters was curved against her on her side, her pale white skin a stark contrast with the burgundy velvet of the chaise and, her red hair fanning out across it. Two others twisted on top of them, another sister, dark black hair in disheveled braids that swung as she rocked her hips in pleasure and a boy she remembered, Nicholas, whose cock was buried in Prudence as his mouth bit and sucked at her sister.

Zelda watched as the foursome moved together as one and felt herself flush. While it was true, witches were much less concerned with age on principle - it tended to lose much of its meaning when one lived well past half a millennia - these four were so indelibly linked to her niece, that they were a line she wouldn't cross, at least not today.

She moved on, walking past them into a darker room where the gyrating figures were unrecognizable, faces hidden in shadows and limbs and found herself staring at a figure that looked distinctly out of place. Amidst the writhing nude bodies Mary Wardwell's green silk robe seemed oddly demure, despite its neckline. But it was her almost bored expression as she surveyed the lasciviousness surrounding her that was truly incongruous. She prowled the room like a carnivore presented with buffet of vegetables.

As her eyes rolled away from the nearest pile of gyrating bodies, Mary caught Zelda's gaze. Zelda felt a shock down her spine at the intensity of the stare looking back at her, the blue eyes over-bright in the dim lighting. Zelda could just make out the corners of Mary's mouth quirking up slightly through the haze.

"Sister Spellman," Faustus' voice was deep and smooth, startling her from the trance of Mary's hypnotic gaze.

She turned to face him and inclined her head, "Your excellency." She let her voice sound as aroused as she felt and watched him shiver at the sound of his title with no little pleasure.

Here he was, the high priest, with his choice of any witch or warlock, or witches or warlocks, of his choosing and instead he was in front of her, shivering with pleasure at her words alone. The thrill of that power felt more tantalizing than any wine, enchanted or otherwise.

"I'm so pleased that you decided to join us tonight," his hand stroked her arm gently as he spoke, "but I was dismayed to see that you have not seen fit to partake in our Dark Lord's bountiful offerings."

His hand stroked back up her arm until it found the delicate strap of her chemise and lifted it slowly sliding it towards the edge of her shoulder so that the silk fabric teased across her nipples and the strap almost fell down her arm.

Two could play this game.

She leaned in, until she could almost drink the the heat pouring off of his skin, bare from the waist up. She waited until his eyes had predictably fallen to stare at her lips and licked them slowly. His eyes darkened.

"And who would you suggest I join?" She arched an eyebrow as he leaned in further and further, until he pressed his lips against the column of her throat. "Anyone in particular?" Her voice was embarrassingly thready. His teeth scraped down her neck to the edge of her shoulder.

"Sister Mason is looking particularly delectable," he hummed into her skin as she spoke, "and Brother Brennan seems bored of his current company. Perhaps I should help entertain-" Faustus bit down and the rest of her words were lost in her half-stifled cry. She so loved to provoke his jealousy.

"Devious minx," Faustus muttered affectionately as he kissed his way up her neck, one hand moving to cup her breast while the other gripped her ass and pulled her closer. She angled her hips so that she could tease herself on his erection, tenting his loose trousers. "Wanton little slut," he whispered just into her ear and she gasped as her clit brushed against him.

"You always say the sweetest things," and Zelda was pleased that she managed some semblance of her usual haughtiness.

Faustus growled and pulled her to him as he sat, so that she was straddling his lap, her chemise riding up and sliding off one shoulder, him bare above the waist. He kissed her properly, ravenously, one hand sliding into her hair with an almost animalistic groan of pleasure.

"I can't decide, which I'd prefer," he muttered in between kisses on her neck, "fucking you where they can all see but only I get to touch," one hand grabbed her ass for emphasis, "or throwing you to wolves and watching them just eat you up."

Zelda moaned as she raked her fingers down his back, his mouth sealing itself around one nipple. He bit it lightly and as delicious as it felt, she needed that mouth for something else.

She pulled him back with a sharp tug on his hair, her voice rough, "Keep talking."

Faustus grinned. He had always loved how much his voice affected her.

"Do you think they'd be shocked?" As he spoke, Zelda stood slightly to disrobe him.

"To learn that proper Sister Spellman is a needy little slut who wants to ride every cock in the coven?" She set a fast pace, already rubbing circles around her clit. One of his hands joined hers, while the other held her to him.

"I don't think so. Edward never was." Zelda's head fell back, her mouth open groan. He leered at her, drinking in her desperation.

"We'll fill you right up," his voice was getting rougher by the second, "One for your cunt, one for your ass," he grabbed it for emphasis, "one in your mouth and one for each hand. How would you like that?"

Zelda couldn't stop herself from nodding, almost mindlessly. She was already so close.

"Filthy little cockwhore."

She could feel every inch of her screaming for release.

"What a perfect slut you are for our Dark Lord."

She was gone, hips moving as though possessed and letting out a moan at how delicious she felt. Her hips kept bucking and it was a moment before she realized that Faustus was still hard within her. She began to roll her hips again. Her first orgasm had barely taken the edge off the raw need roaring in her core.

"No, no, darling. I gave you what you wanted, didn't I?" Faustus's hands grasped her ass and kept her moving despite her words.

Zelda bent slightly so that her mouth could reach Faustus's throat and bite, nearly hard enough to break the skin.

"Is this anyway to show your High Priest the gratitude he deserves?"

Faustus always seemed to know just how to twist the knife so that Zelda still enjoyed the feel of the blade.

"Get on your knees and say your prayers like a good witch."

Zelda let out a whine. She was already half way to her second orgasm and could hardly see any reason to deny it to herself but this little game in particular was one of her favorites and just the thought of playing it here, where everyone could see felt almost devastatingly satisfying.

She pouted, but did as she was bid and Faustus's eyes seemed to flash with satisfaction as she slid to her knees in front of him.

His cock was slick with her. She pumped her hand over him, once then twice before he grasped her wrist.

"I don't believe I asked for you to use your hands, Sister." Faustus voice was cold and rough and Zelda was quite sure she was dripping down her thighs.

Zelda met his gaze, playacting demure as she slowly crossed her hands behind her back and opened her lips indecently wide around his cock.

Faustus hissed as she leaned forward to take him in deeper and deeper, starting to gag and fighting off the instinct to pull back. Faustus smirked as her head bobbed back and then down again, his fingers threading through her hair with a scrape of his nails that had her shivering. As she made to pull back again, he twisted his hand, tightening his grip and holding her fast so that she choked, her throat spasming.

"Too much for you, darling?" Zelda's eyes were watering as she looked up at him, trying to shake her head like a good girl, even as he held it still. "That's right. Don't bother playing the virgin with me sweetheart. I know what a slut you are."

He released her head briefly, letting her pull back for a moment and she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock just to prove his point.

"Such a delicious mouth." He was winded, panting, as she bobbed her head in shorter bursts, faster and faster, "Can you feel them staring dearest? Is that was has you all hot and bothered? Knowing that every fucking witch and warlock here wants you when I'm finished?"

Zelda let out a guttural moan, her mouth too full to vocalize her response.

"A slut like you? That cunt must be dripping." He sounded almost drunk.

"Satan, Zelda, stop," that wasn't what she had expected. She pulled back slowly, vision hazy with want and incense.

Faustus laid back, until he was lying flat on the cushions spread around them. Zelda followed, until Faustus gripped her hips and twisted them towards to him. With a tug of lust in her core she realized what he wanted, and couldn't helped but enthusiastically agree.

She shifted herself into position, her cunt held just above his mouth, her lips pursed blowing a stream of cool air over his cock.

Faustus leaned up, flicking his tongue in a stripe through her cunt, until it circled her clit and Zelda's hips twisted furiously in his hands as she moaned, her head falling forward, all thoughts gone from her mind.

With a sharp spank on her ass, Faustus pulled back. "How do we say thank you, dearest?"

Only he could manage such superciliousness, even in such moments. She pressed her hips down to his mouth again in a taunting reply but did as she was bid and swallowed him down again in one torturous slide of lips and tongue.

Zelda kept one hand propping herself upright enough to move, and let the other cup his balls, squeezing gently, weighing them in her palm as he groaned his appreciation back into her in an escalating cycle of need that had her fast on her way to climaxing.

"My, my," Zelda recognized the voice, but she had never heard it quite so gleeful, "what do we have here?"

She pushed herself up to face the approaching figure and Faustus's noise of protest vibrated through her clit.

"Such very equitable practices the Church of Night has it seems." Mary Wardwell's tone was flat, appraising, her head tilted as she bit her lip.

"But so exclusive. How is anyone else to play if you insist on behaving like this?" She sounded petulant now, like a child denied a sweet.

With a flick of her wrist, Zelda bolted upright, quite beyond her control, her legs taking her weight and her arms swung behind her back, clasped tight as though bound by invisible ropes. Mary crooked her finger and Zelda slid forward as though seized in a gale wind, stopping abruptly with her core brushing up against Faustus's hard and leaking cock.

Faustus made to rise, his voice crying out in protest but Mary's hand flicked him back, flat as a board, silenced abruptly.

"There," Mary sighed, "that's better."

"Well, hop on Ms. Spellman," Mary gestured with her hand and Zelda flushed at the insinuation.

Whatever else, she was quite sure she had read timid, demure, little Mary Wardwell entirely wrong when first they'd met.

Zelda shifted forward on her knees, letting herself rise up and fall down with groan as Faustus filled her again.

He thrust up, immediately, instinctively.

"No, no that won't do at all," another twirl of those dangerous fingers and Faustus let out a choked groan.

"If I let you come now, who will we have to play with?" Mary drawled as though explaining something to a particularly dim-witted child.

Faustus growled, fury in his eyes and his face twisting, but his mouth remained firmly closed. A thrill shot through her at the thought. This whole time she hadn't heard a spell, whispered or otherwise, but it the magic moving them about like playthings was unmistakable and Zelda's eyes swept over Mary with a new appreciation. Any witch with the power to silently bend a high priest to her will was more formidable than she could fathom and Zelda's hips bucked at the thought of it.

"Now be a good little priest and keep fucking her nice and hard, won't you?"

Faustus snarled, his mouth momentarily freed.

"Don't worry, I know what she likes. Don't I sweetheart?" Faustus spanked her hard and Zelda's hips canted to grind down harder in response. This new position gave her absolutely no pressure on her clit and it was driving her mad.

"Does he Ms. Spellman?" and Mary cupped her chin, her thumb brushing against Zelda's bottom lip as she panted. Zelda closed her lips around it, sucking it in as Mary's grip tightened. She moaned, tasting salt and something sour and wanting more.

In a flash, her hand was gone, drawn back, and then Zelda was reeling from a sharp smack across her cheek. She cried out, her skin stinging.

"Does he?" Mary gently raked her fingers through Zelda's hair, her nails teasing Zelda' sensitive scalp and the contrast had Zelda dizzy. She whimpers.

"Yes."

"And what's that Ms. Spellman?"

Zelda didn't answer. Mary's hand came down again, harder.

"Does he punish you for being a needy little slut?" The hand in her hair pulled sharply until Zelda shook her head in response.

"No, I didn't think so. After all that's what our Dark Lord demands of us isn't it?" Mary whispered gently.  
  
She kneeled until she was eye to eye with Zelda who's hands were still clasped behind her back entirely beyond her control. Carefully watching Zelda's face, Mary slid her hands over Zelda's chest, until she was cupping both breasts, weighing them in her hands before circling each nipple and pinching each between sharp nails.

"Does he reward you instead, Ms. Spellman? Give you his nice, hard cock and let you beg for more?"

The bones of Zelda's spine seemed to twist free of their tendons, electric with pleasure at her touch.

"Yes," Zelda sighed, her hips rising and falling in short bursts, her head falling back in pleasure.

"Does it feel good, Ms. Spellman? To be filled up to the brim with our Lord's dark promises? Can you feel it?"

She could, something deep, tugging at her nerves, hungry, like a fire long starved of oxygen suddenly kindling brighter. Zelda groaned and Mary leaned forward, tipping her mouth to swallow the sound and kissing her like Zelda's pleasure was the sweetest honey she'd tasted in centuries.

Zelda felt dizzy, disoriented, grounded only by Mary's lips and the chasm of need they seemed to be opening wide within her.

Mary leaned back, her eyes inhumanly black, "Delicious."

"I'll have more of that, I think."

Mary's hands pinched and pulled until Zelda opened her mouth in a stifled scream that Mary opened her mouth to drink in.

One of Mary's hands fell to Zelda's dancing core, circling her clit with teasing brushes that Zelda's strung out nerves could barely stand.

"I'd like to keep you like this forever, I think." Her voice was teasing, almost gentle, "You wear desperation so prettily, don't you?"

Mary bent down and sunk her teeth into Zelda's collarbone, sharp and bruising, before lapping as cried out in response.

"My needy doll, just for me to play with."

"Please," Zelda sobbed, her head falling forward, her lips open, pressing panting kisses to any flesh she could feel.

"Ah, ah, you don't get anything unless you say the magic word."

Zelda's eyes rolled back in pleasure and frustration. Every one of Faustus's shallow thrusts brushed her g-spot now with unerring accuracy, his thighs tense.

"Please," she spat out.

Lilith chuckled. "No, not that one dear," She leaned in closer and whispered into her ear, "Who owns this?" and as one of Mary's hands caressed her chest, Zelda could feel something deeper stirring, a longing that as unbearable in its intensity, a soul calling out for fulfillment.

"Satan," Zelda gasped.

Mary giggled, her head shaking a soft 'no' as her pressure increase. "Close."

"Lucifer."

Mary's grin was positively satanic with gleeful denial.

"Mephistopheles."

Zelda groaned in frustration, her hips grinding down at a feverish pace but her release just out of reach. "Ah, Please," her hips thrust down again, "Fuck," the fingers on her clit were relentless, "Satan, Lilith, Please."

Something shifted, and all at once Zelda could feel a rushing warmth, a scream in her ears and her body chased it without thought even as her muscles burned. She was barely even aware enough to hear Mary's softly murmured, "Ah, there it is," over the sound of her own shocked moans.

Mary's hands carded through her hair as Zelda spasmed. "Lovely."

She traced her thumb over Zelda's parted sighing lips as though memorizing it with her touch. She bent at the waist and pressed a chaste kiss over Zelda's panting mouth. Zelda closed her eyes to lean in for more, but nothing came.

Zelda blinked her eyes open again. Mary was gone, lost amid the haze and smoke as Faustus cried out his completion beneath her.

Faustus propped himself up on one arm as he panted, his other arm sliding around to grasp one of her breasts half-heartedly.

"Meddlesome shrew," he murmured, pressing a kiss into her shoulder.

Zelda hummed noncommitally, her head still foggy. She turned to face him and kissed him silent and let all thoughts of Mary Wardwell's piercing eyes and strange touch be washed away in the press of skin on skin.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or find me under the same username on tumblr and tell me how you feel there!


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